


What Holds Us Here

by I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Failing Attempt at Force Healing, Gen, NO DEATH, Resentment, unsatisfying ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-11-23 18:50:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11408430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning/pseuds/I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning
Summary: Ahsoka's sick. Obi-Wan has every intention of helping her.Anakin is jealous.





	What Holds Us Here

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, all. I joined Archive of our Own on August 2 of last year. I'm currently looking for suggestions of what I should do to celebrate when that date comes around again. I'm looking for something special. Brain sparkle traps are welcome.

 

“Master,” Ahsoka whispered, almost a whimper of distress.

Anakin smoothed his hand over her forehead, hating the fever in her blood.

“Master Kenobi—”

Anakin's heart stilled. _She's not calling for me?_ He tried to shove the petty thought away. Several days away from any rescue effort that could be launched, with Ahsoka stricken by an illness her Togrutan heritage had not prepared her to combat, the _last_ thing he should be considering was his ego.

Except that it hurt.

_It must be pride. But— if it is, why does it feel like..._

He daren't finish the thought, for fear he'd have to face just how absurd it was...

But it felt like he'd lost something he'd thought was his.

And now it was Obi-Wan's.

_Maybe she was his all along._

In spite of everything.

“Master Kenobi,” Ahsoka pleaded again, this time cracking open glazed eyes.

Anakin leaned over her and gave her as much of a smile as sixty-seven hours of hard work and no sleep would allow. “He's bringing back water.”  
A mile-long journey either way.

_And he's just as exhausted as I am._

But Ahsoka could no longer stand the water that had grown tepid through the heat of the day, so Obi-Wan set out to bring back something cooler.

A tired step in the door had Anakin looking up to meet Obi-Wan's worn gaze. Obi-Wan's smile of patient endurance left Anakin feeling ashamed.

Obi-Wan's smile had been genuine.

_And here I can barely comfort Ahsoka because I'm too busy resenting him._

Ahsoka's head rolled to the side, she caught sight of the older Jedi, and she held out her arms.

Obi-Wan entrusted the water into Anakin's hands, and then moved to kneel beside Ahsoka, moving slow, but not wincing against the pain that shot up through his knees.

Anakin could sense it, but his former master was hiding it from Ahsoka.

She spilled out of the bed and into his arms. He leaned back with a grunt, trying to situate them in a way that he could stay put in for some time. It ended with Ahsoka hiding her face in his shoulder as he held her, fingertips lightly soothing her arm in a very slow, monotonous glide.

He was being as tender with Ahsoka as he'd ever been with Anakin.

_Maybe more._

Wait... was he jealous because Ahsoka wanted  _Obi-Wan_ when she was in this much distress, or was he jealous because Obi-Wan  _liked_ Ahsoka more than he'd liked him?

Could one resent and crave a person all in one?

_I guess my teenage years proved that, if nothing else._

Obi-Wan looked up to meet his gloomy stare. “Try to get some sleep? I'll keep watch with her a few hours.”  
“Okay.”  _Ahsoka doesn't want me anyway._ Anakin sank onto the cot since she didn't seem to want it, and fell asleep almost as soon as his head hit the stiff fabric.

 

* * *  
  


As soon as Anakin was no longer watching, Obi-Wan sank himself into the Force. Drawing from its depths, he sought out Ahsoka's besieged immune system.

Pour in strength, coax the rag soaked in cold water between her lips to try to keep her hydrated without pouring water down her windpipe, draw her suffering away.

Repeat.

The rhythm of it kept his mind awake and his body moving.

She nestled closer as the edge of her pain began to give way to his insistent battle.

He was trembling now, sweat beading his brow as he fought to breathe.

Her own breathing was growing less labored.

Maybe, if he relieved enough of her suffering, she would be able to sleep. She needed it, desperately.

“Come on, Little One,” he murmured. “Sleep for me.”  
He fought her disease late into the night, his breathing growing ragged, everything else fading away as he struggled against a creature beyond his skill and so far beyond his strength.

It was trouncing him, brutalizing him, but he would not back down. It was Ahsoka he was fighting for, and he was willing to take far more than a beating for her sake.

And then she was pulled from his arms and a hand was holding him back from pursuing, another hand lightly slapping against his cheek.

“Go away,” Obi-Wan mumbled. It was unreasonable,  _petty_ to interrupt his focus when he was so close—

“No, you're  _not_ close. At least, not to  _winning._ ”

Obi-Wan tried to growl at the insect-like voice flitting at the edge of his brain, the one wanting to distract him—

“Come back, Obi-Wan.”

And then pain hit him, a horrifying wave of it, and he was curling forward with a shaking breath.

“There you go. Dammit, Obi-Wan.”  
Obi-Wan simply sagged against the shoulder before him and tried to breathe.

“One of these days you're going to kill yourself.”

And Anakin thought _Obi-Wan_ the needless worrier. “That's not part of the plan.”  
“You don't have a good grasp of reality when you go in there, Obi-Wan. All you see is the person you're trying to save.”  
“Yes, well, I don't have the _talent_ to be able to focus on the two things at once. Since I wasn't born a healer, if I'm going to heal, it's all or nothing.”

Anakin sighed, pulling away from him. “I don't know why you didn't die trying to save Qui-Gon.”

* * *

 

The moment he said it, Obi-Wan went still.

Anakin turned to look back at him, but his face was hidden in shadow.

“He told me not to. He asked me to not heal him.”

Anger surged through Anakin's soul.  _And you listened?_

If Obi-Wan had  _insisted,_ Qui-Gon Jinn would  _be_ here right now, he'd—

“I gave him what he asked,” Obi-Wan whispered. “I gave him everything he asked.”  
“Is that why you don't listen when people try to tell you not to burn yourself out?” Anakin asked, tone just barely neutral. He knew some of his disgust bled into it anyway. “Guilt?”

Obi-Wan did not answer.

Instead of searching the Force to find out why, Anakin stewed.

Obi-Wan  _deserved_ to feel that guilt.

How could Obi-Wan  _not_ have been willing to die for Qui-Gon? Anakin would die for Obi-Wan, if that's what it took.

_You must not have loved him at all._

The thought left him full of revulsion.

For years he'd pitied Obi-Wan because he hadn't been good enough to save Qui-Gon. Yes, he'd resented him for it, but Anakin had told himself repeatedly that Obi-Wan was weak, had little power. You couldn't expect too much from the poor thing.

But this—?

_You fripping deserve to suffer._

 

 


End file.
